Driving west toward Friars Point from the Stovall Plantation office and home place, I came upon the charred remains of this small house. The bark of the pines sixty feet from the house was blackened; the branches closest to the house singed and dead or dying. The chimney, a few bricks of the foundation and the three concrete steps were all that remained. For a house that had met such a violent end, the site was strangely quiet and peaceful.